


You're my downfall, you're my muse

by monsta_x_clan (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/monsta_x_clan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, Zayn never believed in fate, actually, things such as destiny were a bunch of foolishness to him, but as he entered that coffee shop, the one he’d always seen but never visited, he knew such a thing as destiny must exist as he stared into Harry’s eyes, and Harry gave him a smile that made him feel as if he was the second coming of Jesus. He almost died then when he noticed something he didn’t see that night, dimples, Harry had dimples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're my downfall, you're my muse

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hello. I hope you enjoy this, let's see how it turns out shall we?

Zayn stared long and hard at the blindingly white canvas in front of him, mocking him. He glared at his paintbrush as if doing so would magically make inspiration come to him. He sighed and dropped the brush whilst rubbing at his temple, feeling a headache coming on. His stomach gave an unnatural growl of protest of being deprived food for so long and he took cautious steps towards his fridge, as if it were a monster out to get him. He tentatively touched the handle and opened it and he was disappointed at what he found inside, as per usual, there was a loaf of bread and jam inside.

He couldn't complain though, others had it much worse. Besides, it was his fault for not taking Louis' advice and actually getting a job instead of waiting for his paintings to magically appear in museums like he promised his mum when he dropped out of school a year ago. He sighed once more and took out the bread and jam, cutting up a thick slice and splattering on the jam like his life depended on it. His phone rang then and he took it out of his back pocket, groaning inwardly when he saw who it was.

He considered ignoring him, but he knew Louis by now to know he'd just keep on calling so he picked up the phone, already dreading what his best friend was going to say.

“You fucking wanker.” Zayn laughed, he was expecting something like that to come out of Louis' mouth.

“What have I done now?”

“Are you fucking serious? You’re seriously asking me that question? What day is it today?”

“December 27th- oh shit” Zayn said as he finally realised.

“Yes you fucking idiot.”

“Lou I’m sorry, I’ll be right there, is it still the same pub?” Zayn asked as he hastily covered up his now untouched meal and he quickly grabbed his jacket, saying bye to Louis and running out of his apartment. He checked his pockets for his keys and sighed when he found them safely tucked in his pockets. He considered taking the bus, but decided against it, the pub was only about a 30 minute walk and maybe the walk would help him find inspiration for his painting.

***

Zayn walked into the pub and said a silent prayer of thanks as he felt the heat wash towards him. His decision of walking had turned out to be a bad one considering the amount of snow that now clung to his coat. He surveyed the room and quickly spotted Louis, it was hard not to. His best friend was currently in the middle of what looked like a drink off. Judging by the amount of glasses that was on Louis’ table, he figured that Louis was winning.

He walked over to him, a huge grin on his face and Louis smiled upon recognising him although Zayn wondered how he could still do so with the amount of alcohol he was currently downing.

“That’s gonna be a pretty bad hangover tomorrow.” He told Louis with a smile and Louis dragged him down and hugged him tightly. Zayn rolled his eyes and groaned, Louis had a tendency to be too touchy when he was drunk.

“I’m mad at you, you know.” Louis whispered to him as the crowd around them dispersed.

“I’m sorry Lou, I got caught up in painting and-“

“I thought you currently have no inspiration.” Louis cuts him off and he sat down beside him and grabbed the drink Louis was currently holding.

“I thought if I started painting, it would come to me.” He scowled and gulped the drink.

“What would come to you?” He heard behind him and he turned around, immediately regretting it. Of course Louis would do this, invite the last people he’d want to see. He looked at them all, starting from the left: Liam, Niall, Eleanor, Sophia and Ava. He watched as Eleanor made her way towards Louis, he glared at Liam’s arm around Sophia’s waist and he had to tear his eyes away from the look of adoration Niall was giving Ava before he puked. He left the group with the excuse of going to the restroom. He loved Louis dearly and the rest of his friends, but he couldn’t stand being in their presence if all they were going to do was snog all night. Him being the only homosexual one in the group did not help either, it’s not every day you found a homosexual male in Bradford.

His mind wandered to when he first came out to Louis. They were in a shitty pub, he was drunk, and it all came rushing out. It didn’t take too long for the rest of his friends to be notified though; Louis did not know how to keep things to himself. He smiled softly to himself as he remembered how easily his friends had taken it, Niall making a comment saying “Just don’t fall in love with me, I have Ava” and they’d all laugh and that was it. His thoughts were cut short as he bumped into something and as he rubbed his forehead, he looked up and had to suppress a gasp.

The first thing he noticed was the colour green, the kind of green he could never achieve, not by mixing the most varied versions of blue and yellow, the green he was met with was the kind he could never achieve even in his lifetime. He allowed his eyes to roam around what he bumped into, rather, whom he bumped into. After getting over the shock of the boy’s green eyes, he found himself staring at his hair instead. Hair that intrigued him; he suddenly found himself wanting to touch it and Zayn didn’t remember the last time that happened; him obsessing over a stranger’s hair.

Next he looked down at the boy’s lips and he fought the urge to push him against the wall and devour his mouth right there and then. But then he realised he was staring, his mouth was even opened slightly and he quickly closed it and took a step back as the boy stared at him, seemingly in shock.

“Oh my God I am so sorry!” Zayn found himself saying and the stranger’s pretty lips quirked up slightly.

“Not a problem mate.” He replied and if Zayn didn’t feel like dying before, he certainly felt it now. The stranger’s voice was raspy with a touch of softness and Zayn didn’t even know that was possible, he knew people’s voices to be rough and soft, high, or low, never raspy with a touch of softness. Zayn found himself clearing his own throat before speaking again.

“I was just lost in thought and I don’t tend to do that a lot so I don’t know what was wrong with me this time and I’m Zayn.” He rambled and he almost bit his tongue, if the boy didn’t find him weird, he most certainly did now. But Zayn reminded himself it was okay, it’s not every day he saw a boy as beautiful as him and he most likely wouldn’t see him again, so what did it matter? However, the boy just gave him a smile and Zayn felt something in his heart flutter.

“No really, it’s okay. I bumped into you; I was lost in thoughts myself, I’m Harry.” Zayn was not sure whether Harry was mocking him as he looked down at Harry’s extended arm. Harry raised an eyebrow and stared at his hand and Zayn took that as a cue to shake it, so he did. Harry’s hand was warm which suited Zayn’s frostbitten fingers perfectly.

“Are you here with anyone?” Harry asked as he released the handshake; Zayn half expected him to wipe his hands on his ridiculously skinny jeans and when he didn’t he actually let out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Oh yeah why?” He answered suspiciously and Harry laughed and pointed towards a direction which Zayn turned towards. He groaned when he saw his group of friends blatantly staring. He looked at Louis who was making pretty immature gestures with his hands.

“Oh God kill me now.” He muttered to himself and Harry laughed some more; the sound was already becoming music to Zayn’s ears.

“They seem like a nice group of people.” Harry commented, amusement clear in his voice.

“Yeah well, they’re just really psyched I’m talking to someone and not being anti-social, plus they’ve been wanting me to hook up with someone for a long time now, not to necessarily say I want to hook up with you, not that you don’t look like a nice person, but you might not be into that sort of thing and oh did I just really admit to a stranger I’m gay. God, I’ll shut up now.” Zayn said, more to himself than anything and Harry giggled, actually had the audacity to giggle.

“Well I know your name, you know mine. I’m not a stranger anymore then, really though I have to go.”

“Oh of course, sorry you had to listen to my rambling.” Zayn muttered and Harry laughed, turning to leave.

“Will I see you again?” Zayn didn’t care about how pathetically desperate he sounded. Harry turned around and leaned in close, his mouth grazing his cheek as he whispered.

“I have a feeling you’ll see me again, very soon.” Then he was gone with a smile that seemed to transfer itself onto Zayn’s own lips, not even the obnoxiously loud wolf whistle Louis made behind him wiped the smile off his face.

***  
“You realise I’m going to have to kill you.” Zayn stated glaring at Louis who shrugged, attempting innocence.

“What did I do?” He asked voice sweet and Zayn wondered how it was possible for him to be in control even with the amount of drinks he already had.

“Embarrassed me in front of Harry is what you did.” Louis cheered and clapped him on his back.

“You know his name; I’m hoping you got his number?” He asked and Zayn regretfully shook his head. Louis sighed as someone tapped on the mic set up on the makeshift stage.

“Why didn’t you get his number?” Louis asked him as they turned their direction towards the stage.

“He said he had to leave, besides Lou, I don’t think he’s the type.” Zayn admitted rather regretfully and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Please, with the way he acted with you, he must be.” Louis answered as the owner of the pub quickly introduced the act that was about to perform, some band named White Eskimo.

“Now tell me, what kind of a daft name is White Eskimo? Must be some shit hipster band of some sort.” Louis commented but Zayn wasn’t paying attention. His full attention was on the boy currently tapping the microphone to check it, as he let out a few notes before turning his full attention to the crowd.

“I have a feeling you’ll see me again, very soon.” His words registered in Zayn’s mind and he chuckled softly to himself. As cliché as it sounded, even to Zayn, it seems as if Harry heard his laugh as he stared directly in his direction, a soft smile on his lips.

“I’m Harry Styles and we’re White Eskimo.” Harry turned into a monster on stage. His calm, soft demeanour apparently did not count on stage as he bounced around, singing every line, every lyric, like his life depended on it. He poured his heart, his soul into it and Zayn felt a sudden urge to paint everything, the way the sweat was now glistening of his face, the way his voice seem to overpower air itself.

He wanted to paint the way Harry moved in time with the beat of the drums, the way he gripped his microphone with all his willpower, the way he threw his head back, the way his eyes shone like precious green emeralds, Zayn wanted to paint it all and he forced himself to look at Louis who seemed drawn to Harry like a moth drawn to flames. When the song finished and Harry thanked the crowd, his voice even raspier, his breath quickened, Louis turned to him and whispered,

“I take back everything I said.”

***  
Harry stepped off the stage, his eyes drifting over the crowd, seemingly looking for someone. Zayn had retreated to the back of the pub, frantically clawing away at his moleskin, inspiration found at last. He didn’t even notice the shadow of another person’s presence until soft hands covered his moleskin and he looked up to still glistening green eyes.

“Told you you’d see me again soon.” Harry spoke softly, seating down beside him.

“Yeah, but you could have warned me mate. “ Zayn answered shakily.

“About what?” 

“That you were going to perform and you were going to be fucking fantastic, seriously, give me a heads up next time.” Zayn said and Harry smiled, which seemed to be his natural response to everything – smiling.

“Next time? I didn’t realise this wasn’t our last meeting.” Harry laughed and Zayn chewed on his bottom lip, he hadn’t even realise what he said.

“Seriously God kill me now.” He whispered.

“No really, thanks for your compliment. But you didn’t tell me you’re such a great artist; seriously, give me a heads up next time.” Harry copied his accent and it was Zayn’s turn to laugh.

“Thank you, I try.” He said as Louis started making his way towards them. He prayed silently that Louis wasn’t going to do anything to embarrass him, not as much as he’d already done himself anyway. Louis had a small knowing smile on his face as he finally approached them and Zayn knew that smile more than anything.

“Hey nice performance mate.” Louis told Harry with a small smile and Zayn let out a sigh of relief, so far so good.

“Thank you.” Harry replied, a bit suspiciously.

“Harry, this is Louis, a friend of mine.” Zayn introduced and Louis faked mock hurt.

“A friend of yours, I’m his best friend.” Louis said and actually shook Harry’s hand. Harry gave a small nervous laugh whilst Zayn practically killed Louis in his head.

“Did you want something, Lou?” Zayn asked, his tone light, but venomous, he hoped Louis caught on. Louis, living up to his status of being his best friend caught on and gave him a small smile before saying,

“Li wanted to know if you’d come with us to a restaurant he found downtown, but I can see you’re quite busy, so never mind; nice to meet you Harry.” Louis winked at Harry before leaving with a small wave and Zayn had to seriously resist the urge to trip him up.

“He was…interesting.” Harry commented when Louis was out of earshot and Zayn smiled.

“Well, you can’t really choose your friends unfortunately.” Zayn smiled, he did love Louis, very dearly. Even if he wanted to kill him sometimes; this of course, was most of the time.

“No really, he’s quite interesting.” Harry muttered and Zayn felt a slight twitch of hurt in his heart; his initial worry was whether Harry was gay, now it seems his actual worry would have to be stopping Harry from falling in love with his best friend instead of him. Zayn knew he was exaggerating, Harry could have been the type to randomly compliment people, actually he seemed exactly like the type, but it still didn’t stop him from blurting out,

“Oh yeah, his girlfriend seem to think so too, which is a wonder to me because he’s the most annoying human being a person could know.” Zayn watched a little too eagerly for Harry’s reaction, and when his face didn’t look as crestfallen as he thought, he breathed a little. Of course, being the artist he was, he tended to be a little over-dramatic.

In fact, Harry looked more amused than anything and Zayn knew he needed to get out of there before he did something he’d end up regretting. Besides, he wanted to get started on painting, now that he’d found his inspiration; his muse, who he already decided was the boy standing in front of him with a small smile playing on his lips. So he gave a smile of his own and said,

“I really have to go; I’m itching to paint something.” And okay, Harry didn’t need to know that detail.

“Oh yeah, of course; will I see you again?” Harry asked not at all mocking his desperate tone from earlier. Zayn did not know the answer to that though, he really didn’t. He didn’t want to seem desperate by offering him his phone number, besides; there was still that little problem of not knowing if “swung that way”. So he nodded.

“I have a feeling you’ll see me again, very soon.” He copied Harry’s words from earlier and left, practically radiating happiness.

***

Zayn heaved a sigh as he finally finished his painting, like a true artist, he’d be holed up in his apartment for four days, only showering, peeing and eating, when necessary. His entire focus had been on the damn painting he’d finally finish. As he stared at his work, even he had to praise himself; it was the best piece of work he’d ever produced. He had painted Harry whilst performing, his head thrown back, the lights illuminating him, making him look like some sort of angel. He’d even painted the sweat, the way Harry had gripped the microphone, as Zayn stared at the painting, he felt a sudden sense of empowerment and he hastily showered and got dressed.

He left his apartment in a hurry, desperate to find the one person who had been on his mind, who’d latched himself on to him, who’d made his painting all about him. But as he walked the streets of Bradford, his sudden empowerment died down as he realised Harry was literally the definition of trying to find a needle in a haystack. So he finally listened to the protest of his stomach and headed towards a coffee shop he’d always seen but never visited.

The thing is, Zayn never believed in fate, actually, things such as destiny were a bunch of foolishness to him, but as he entered that coffee shop, the one he’d always seen but never visited, he knew such a thing as destiny must exist as he stared into Harry’s eyes, and Harry gave him a smile that made him feel as if he was the second coming of Jesus. He almost died then when he noticed something he didn’t see that night, dimples, Harry had dimples.

He slowly walked over to the counter and gave a silent thank you to God as he realised that the coffee shop was practically disserted apart from an old couple sitting in the back.

“Told you you’d see me again soon.” Harry laughed as Zayn mimicked his words and he leaned against the counter.

“Some people might call it fate.” He replied, eyes transfixed on Zayn and okay, Zayn had to stop himself from kissing him cause really, Harry was tempting him. There was still that issue of knowing whether Harry was “the type” though with the way he was currently behaving with him, Zayn thought maybe, just maybe he was.

“Well up until now, I didn’t believe in fate.”

“Believe in it now?” Harry asked, still not taking his eyes off Zayn and Zayn found he couldn’t look away either.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Zayn replied and Harry laughed and checked his watch.

“Well, my shift is almost over, how about we have a little discussion about your disbelief in fate when I’m done cause really; I call our little meetings fate.” Harry said and yeah, Zayn was gone for good now.

“Alright.” He replied and Harry smiled. Zayn sat down by the window, bringing out his moleskin and drawing a quick sketch of Harry at work, pleasant to ongoing costumers as always. At this rate, Harry had Zayn whipped enough that he’d do anything he asked him to do, including jumping off a bridge, if it’d please Harry. So underneath his sketch, he wrote, “You’re my downfall, you’re my muse” as Harry made his way towards him.


End file.
